Chapter XX ANNA’S SURRENDER “This is indeed a gala night,” said Ennison, raising his glass, and watching for a moment the golden bubbles. ” He resumed, after a mouthful: “Here is a girl of sixteen or seventeen, seventeen and a half to be exact, running about, as one might say, in London. ” He paused. Yet you catch her eye—you can’t seem to escape from it. "I'll make a sketch, too," he said. Kneebone cordially on the shoulder, and began to laugh as heartily as any of them. I wish she wouldn’t look like that at us over her glasses.
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